


Origin Stories

by silveradept



Category: The Tea Dragon Society - Katie O'Neill
Genre: A Story of Stories, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 03:09:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15654534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveradept/pseuds/silveradept
Summary: What starts as a question about one story needs several more stories to try and answer fully.





	1. Stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spoke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoke/gifts).



"Minette!" Greta smiled as her friend appeared at the doorway to the forge. "Wait there for a minute, okay?"

Greta used her tongs to move the glowing metal from the forge to a workspace, then took the hammer laying nearby and began to strike, sending showers of sparks from the metal with each stroke. After what seemed to Minette like hitting the same spot over and over again without anything changing, Greta took the metal and plunged it into a bucket, where it hissed and steamed as the metal cooled.

"That will wait for a minute," Great said, wiping some sweat from her brow. "How are you, Minette? Is Chamomile doing okay?"

"Chamomile is fine, thank you," Minette said. "And I am, too. How is Ginseng?"

"Ginseng is looking forward to our playdate," Greta giggled. "I think Brick might be getting a little jealous of the way my life is right now."

"Oh!" Minette turned red in embarrassment. "I completely forgot about Brick! I'm so sorry. How is Brick doing?"

"Brick is fine," Greta said reassuringly. "He's much happier now that I'm spending more time in the forge. Mama saw the teapot I made for the Society and thought that it was good enough to sell at the stall, so she wants me to make a few more. It's taking longer to come up with ways of making each of them unique, like she wants."

Minette looked to be lost in thought for a minute, and then turned red again.

"I'm so sorry," she said, "but I can't remember how you and Brick met each other. I'm still not good with memories."

Greta smiled and kissed Minette on the cheek, producing a different kind of blush from Minette.

"That's okay," Greta said, reassuringly. "I don't think I've ever told the story about my contract with Brick."

"Contract?" Minette asked. "I thought Brick was a pet, like Ginseng."

"He is," Greta said, searching for the right words to use, "but he's not. Remember when Hesekiel and Erik tell us stories about their adventures, and Hesekiel uses magic to make Erik's fighting better and to keep him safe?"

Minette nodded.

"Brick and I are kind of the same way. He helps keep the fires hot in the forge, he reminds me of what I'm doing when I get distracted, and he makes sure that I put the tools in the right places when I'm done with them. Sometimes, for certain things, he stands on the end of a piece of iron so I can shape it, or lets me wrap it around him so that the size is right."

"He sounds very useful," Minette said.

"He is. Mama says Brick grows and changes with the blacksmith that he's bonded to. She also says that very few blacksmiths ever bond with something like Brick. She's very proud that I did it at six, but it's kind of scary."

"Six?" Minette said. "You bonded with Brick at six? I....don't remember what I was doing at six, but I don't think it had anything to do with my future sight." Minette turned away from Greta slightly, still embarrassed every time she had to admit that her memory didn't work like everyone else's.

Greta hugged Minette, turning her back to face Greta.

"It's okay," she whispered in Minette's ear. "You're going to be okay."

Brick discreetly tapped the table a couple times to get Greta's attention. Greta hugged Minette again, tightly, then went back to the piece of metal she had put in the bucket and returned it to the forge.

"Would you tell me about how you met Brick?" Minette asked. "If it wouldn't be too distracting," she added hesitantly.

"Sure," Greta said, staring at the metal. "Brick, can you give this some extra heat? This needs to be hot if I'm going to get this ready to shape." Brick nodded and jumped into the forge's fire, making Minette gasp. Minette watched with fascination as the red fire started to creep into orange, and then into blue, with Brick sitting in the middle of it, looking as content as she had ever seen him. She moved away from the bright, hot, flame, and wondered why Greta didn't seem to be bothered by it.

"How hot is it in there?" Minette asked.

"It's pretty hot," Greta replied. "But having goblin blood makes me not feel it as much. And Brick wouldn't hurt me."

"Why not?"

"He promised me he wouldn't when I made the contract with him. I have to feed him and take care of him and make sure that there's a hot fire for him when he needs it. So I guess it's lucky I'm studying to be a blacksmith, isn't it?"

Greta flipped the metal over in the forge and continued to look at it as Brick provided the blue-hot flame that Minette had been fascinated by.

"When I was six, I wanted to see what Mama was doing in the forge so much. She could create so many pretty things, and I wanted to create them, too. I would sit and ask questions while she was doing work. Sometimes she would answer, and sometimes she would tell me a story about something else and say that it would make more sense when I was older."

Greta pulled the metal out for what only seemed to be a moment, put it back, and then gestured at Minette. "Can you help me? I need you to hold this piece of metal with the tongs when I pull it out. I'll do the rest with Brick."

Minette nodded. Greta put Minette where she could easily hold the hot metal before pulling it out and laying it on the anvil. Minette grabbed the tongs and held on tightly while Greta used a hammer that looked as tall as she was to hit the metal. Minette wasn't sure she could hold on, but after a while, Greta finished and pushed the metal into the bucket to cool off.

"It's time for dinner, Greta," Greta's mother said at the entryway to the forge. "Will you be staying with us, Minette?"

"I don't have anything to contribute," Minette said.

"Please, Minette," Greta added. "You helped out so much today. Let us feed you as thanks."

Minette nodded, and then was swiftly hustled inside to wash and sit at the table.

"Mama," Greta said, between mouthfuls of food, "Minette wanted to know about Brick today. Could you tell her the story you told me when you and Dad were fighting about whether I was going to run the shop or be a blacksmith?"

Greta's mother and father looked at each other, both smiling at a fond memory.

"We never fought about it," Mama said. "We both agreed that we were going to wait and see what you decided you wanted to do."

"That's right," Papa said with a wink. "We told you stories because we wanted you to understand us and our past, not because we wanted you to choose between us."

"I'd love to hear both of your stories," Minette said genuinely.

"Very well," Mama said.


	2. Iron

Back when the world was younger, perhaps when Hesekiel was a child, there were many more monsters in the world than there are now. The cities and the villages struggled to survive against them. They could keep the monsters out with walls of stone, but the animals didn't like walls, and we couldn't grow enough food inside the walls for everyone.

There were brave people who took on the task of defending us from the creatures outside. The hunters and huntresses were usually the ones in their town that could do magic or call the spirits and gods for protection. They fought bravely, but there were always more monsters than there were hunters.

One day, the underground space the goblins called Home was besieged by powerful monsters. The Hunters were trapped outside, fighting to come back to us. While many stayed in their houses and comforted who they could, a lone goblin girl went to the temples and prayed, her tears and voice beseeching the powers to help them, to help everyone and drive away the monsters.

The words she used are lost to the stories, but the powers heard her prayers and they were moved. The Spirit of Earth appeared to the girl and directed her to a place in Home where there was iron and bade her gather it to herself. The Spirit of Air directed her to a place where she could gather the air and gave her the bellows to control it. The Spirit of Water took her to a stream where she could gather as much as she needed in buckets for the task ahead. And the Spirit of Fire bade her build the first forge, and lit it with his own breath. Each of them, in turn, gave her the instruction necessary to create the sword, the process you will learn - fire, guided by air, to melt the earth and shape it to your will, sealed with water. The powers gave the sword to the goblins, and with it, they gave everyone the power to fight the monsters. While the name of the girl has been lost to us, we use her gifts every day, and we give her our thanks when we use our forges.

\---

"Isn't it a great story?" Greta said.

Minette nodded. There was something different about that story compared to many of the others she had heard. It felt...more true.Had she seen it somewhere, in her past? Was this a story she already knew?

Papa broke the silence by putting tea cups in front of everyone and starting to pour. "We are always grateful for the sword, but the history of these places doesn't stop with killing monsters," he said. "There is more to the story than just that."

"Will you tell us?" Minette asked.

Papa smiled.

"Of course I will."


	3. Tea

The sword was a wondrous thing. With it, the goblins, and then eventually all of the beings of this world, pushed the monsters back into the darkness and began to build in earnest. Tools of iron, armor, and mighty works became common, and everywhere the sword went, the world prospered.

But there came a cost with the sword. Having fewer monsters to fight and keep them together, the beings of the world began to believe terrible things about each other. And they began to see what they had wrested from the monsters as their own, instead of something to be shared. The sword that had been used to spill the blood of monsters began to spill the blood of others. And soon the cries of the mourning began to fill the cities of the world. Priests, seers, shamans, magic-workers and devotees of all the powers and gods wailed and beseeched that something be done to stop this tide of bloodshed.

"We have destroyed monsters," they chanted, "only to become them. Save us from ourselves."

In one of the monasteries whose name is lost to time, a child dropped leaves that had been discarded from a plant used for medicine into water being boiled for the monks by accident. He did not notice what had happened until long after the point where he could have stopped it. Ashamed of his inattention, he brought the water to the cook to await his punishment. The cook, always curious about what new things could be done with the plants the monks gathered, tasted the water before passing any judgment. Upon finding it to his liking, the cook summoned other monks to taste the water. They, too, enjoyed it, and asked the cook how it had been made. The child feared that his inattention would soon be so well known among the monks that he would have to leave.

The cook was kind as well as wise, so instead of telling the truth, he told the other monks that this child had been so focused on his meditation, the powers had rewarded him by dropping leaves into his pot to refresh him when he was done. The other monks believed him, and throughout the monastery, the brewing of tea was the way the monks kept the time on their meditations. Wherever they went, they found edible leaves and used them in their meditations, sharing the drink that resulted with those who meditated with them, no matter their rank or profession. Wisdom and clarity seemed to befall those who took the time for tea, and soon it became practice that before any large decisions were made, everyone involved would share a pot of tea and pray for insight. And thus the bloodshed brought by the sword was tempered by tea. Tea is everywhere now, and people drink it without meditation, but its presence always reminds us that sometimes waiting is the best thing to do.

\---

"It's late," Papa said, after they had drank their tea in silence. "Minette, do you want to stay here for tonight?"

Minette startled. There was something familiar and true about Papa's story, too. Had she heard it before?

"Yes, thank you," she said, having processed what Papa had said to her. "Thank you for the tea and your hospitality."

"Thank you for listening to my story. Would you like to sleep in Greta's room?"

Minette blushed a little and turned her face to hide it.

"Yes," she said. "I would like that very much."


	4. Fire

"Minette! Greta!" Erik waved to them from the kitchen. "You're early for the Society meeting, but you're right on time to try my new soup! Are you hungry?"

"You bet!" Greta grinned, setting Ginseng down on the table, where Rooibos was happily snuffling about. "What's the flavor this time?"

As Greta and Erik fell into a banter about flavoring and spice, Minette set Chamomile down to play with the other dragons and went outside to the bench were Hesekiel usually sat with Jasmine.

"He's not back yet," Erik called, seeing her on her way out. "But he'll be here."

A little while after, Erik wheeled out of the kitchen to sit next to her.

"Greta tells me you're interested in stories," he said.

"Well, I asked her about Brick, and she said she would tell me about it, but instead, her Mama and Papa told me stories about fighting monsters and discovering tea. I don't really understand."

"My parents did that, too," Erik said, chuckling. "A lot more when I was younger. I'd ask about something, and they'd tell me a story about something else that didn't look important at first, but would answer my question by the end."

Minette didn't say anything, but she still felt confused. Some part of it must have still shown to Erik.

"If you want," he said, "I'm just about to tell one of those kinds of stories to Greta. She wants as many stories of adventuring as she can get out of me, the big exciting kinds with monsters and traps and villains. There's a lot more to adventuring that just swinging a sword, and maybe this story will start to get that across to her."

Minette followed Erik back into the kitchen, where there was a cup of gently steaming tea waiting for her.

\---

When the world was still cooling from the heat of battle, there was an adventurer who wanted to do the most daring of things. He had already slain several of the most fearsome monsters and turned the tide of battles with his presence, but something deep within him burned for more.

It made him reckless and careless. Had he listened to his heart, or asked about the job he was being offered, he might not have taken it, and the world would have been different. But he heard only the sound of praise and saw only the glint of the coin he was offered.

So he agreed to bring the Firebird to the Frozen Flame.

Admittedly, what he was told was that there was a maiden whose heart had been frozen by the cruelty of men, and that somewhere in the world, there was someone with the heat necessary to make her love again. When she found that man, a kingdom of snow and ice would finally be thawed and able to flourish. It sounded like an adventure, and the adventurer thought he had the ardor necessary to melt the maiden's heart.

Rather than go to the kingdom of ice and snow directly, the adventurer was first told to travel to the heart of the desert, where the gods first blessed our world with flames, to seek the blessing of the Firebird, for only the Firebird could grant someone enough warmth to survive the presence of the ice maiden. After a lot of fighting and traveling and doing things for other people, the adventurer finally found himself in the chamber of the Firebird, expecting to see a great beast.

Instead, a woman dressed as a Priestess kneeled at the altar of the sacred flame entrusted to us by the gods, her red robe of office gleaming brightly in the sun. The adventurer explained his quest and asked if the Priestess would bless him for the ice maiden.

She said no. There was no blessing she could give him that would last long enough to be useful in the ice kingdom, and the adventurer would do better to leave his quest than to continue, for the ice maiden would not take kindly to his presence.

The adventurer left, but carried resentment in his heart at being denied his wish. The one who hired him told him not to worry, as he had found a charm while the adventurer was talking that would bring the warmth of the sacred fire to him when he needed it the most.

The adventurer was back in business, or so he thought, and headed to the ice maiden's kingdom, where the gods had entrusted another fire. This fire burned not by applying heat, but by taking it away.

As the adventurer pressed on into the kingdom, he could feel the warmth leaving his body faster than he could generate it himself, even with the layers of clothing he had on. He was able to keep moving sufficiently to get to the ice maiden's throne room, but her mere presence nearly froze him solid. He had enough strength to clutch the charm he had been given and wish for warmth, but not much more.

When the Priestess he had seen before appeared in the room, he could feel the warmth radiating off her and keeping the chill at bay, and he thanked the charm.

The ice maiden, however, flew into a rage and accused the Priestess of having returned to destroy her body, after having taken her heart and crushed it. The Priestess told the ice maiden that she had been summoned, and both women turned to the adventurer, fire in one's eyes, ice in the other's.

The adventurer realized, far too late, that he had been tricked. He had been the cruel man, bringing the ice maiden's lover back to her, without understanding that an embrace between the two would destroy both. He had allowed his hunger for glory to consume him.

He hung his head in shame, and kneeled, accepting what sentence the two women would provide for him.

\---

"There's more, right?" Greta demanded.

"No," Erik shrugged. "It stops there."

"What happened to the adventurer?"

"Nobody knows. I'm not sure it would be as memorable with an ending."

Greta tried for the rest of the meal to get Erik, and then Hesekiel, to tell her the end of the story, but neither would say anything more.

When it was time for her to go, Greta proclaimed she'd be back for the rest of the tale another day.


	5. Dragon

"Would you tell me a story about magic?" Minette asked Hesekiel, after Greta had left. Chamomile and Jasmine were trilling at each other in their respective caretakers' laps.

"Erik told one at dinner tonight," Hesekiel replied. "Most stories about magic are like that one. Not many good things happen when magic gets involved."

"You have magic," Minette pointed out.

"And you see how much I use it now," he replied. "I lost the taste for most of it after Erik was hurt."

"I...had magic, too," Minette said, looking down at Chamomile.

"I'm sorry," Hesekiel said, softening. "That was thoughtless of me." He continued to let Jasmine as they sat together in silence.

"Perhaps there is a story I could tell you," he said, after some time thinking. "Even though we call ourselves a Tea Dragon Society, I do not think I have told you or Greta about tea dragons."

\---

I have not found stories or writings of a time where there were not tea dragons. There are legends, of course, that do not mention them, but legends are notorious for leaving out anything not directly related to themselves.

Tea dragons are creatures of magic. That everyone agrees upon. But what tea dragons are is a subject of much speculation and story. Some think they came into existence so that we could have something cute to look after. Others think of them as the keepers of our history, a place where we can be certain our stories will be remembered and shared - at least, for as long as we remember how to harvest the leaves and make the tea. I have yet to have a tea dragon show memories of someone other than their current caretaker, however.

There is a theory that I quite like that suggests that we were created so that the tea dragons would have someone to take care of them and keep them from getting lonely or aggressive with each other. On some days, I think it is the theory that makes the most sense.

I became Jasmine's caretaker some time after Erik and I retired from adventuring. I was going to the tea shop in the town. This was before Greta's father was the proprietor, though. The shop itself seemed to be in a small state of panic when I arrived. Nothing looked extremely out of place, but I felt like I was being watched more carefully than before as I browsed for my selections.

As I was coming to the counter with my selections, the proprietor looked at my usual selection of teas.

"Do you know anything about taking care of animals?" he said, trying to sound like he didn't have a desperate need to know.

"I have some experience," I replied.

"We had a visitor this morning," he said, pushing open the door to his stock room. "None of us really know what to do with her."

Jasmine was napping in the middle of the boxes of tea. It had been some time since any person had seen a tea dragon, so none of them knew quite what they were looking at.

I was looking for something to take care of, because at that time, Erik was insistent that he could perform most of the tasks that he could do before the injury and was always testing himself to see if that was true. So when the shopkeeper saw that I wasn't in a complete panic about the creature in the tea shop, he offered it to me to take, along with my order.

Erik thought Jasmine was very cute and enjoyed the idea of having a pet. Jasmine bit Erik the first time he tried to pet her. That established who was taking care of her, I believe. And I learned much about taking care of tea dragons by being bit by Jasmine quite a bit over the years, wisdom I have tried to impart to you in a less painful way.

One of the many theories of how magic works is that "like calls to like." I do not necessarily believe it over any other theory, and I have found, sometimes, that magic prefers to work in theories compatible with what sort of work you are doing. Whatever the case may be, once there was one tea dragon in our lives, there were more of them quite quickly following afterward. The Tea Dragon Society's first meeting was within two months of my finding Jasmine, and the friendships we made there were exactly what Erik and I needed at that time. It could have been coincidence, but I like to believe there was a little bit of magic in it, the kind that works in stray creatures and chance meetings.


	6. Brick

"Minette!" Greta called from the forge the next day, interrupting her thoughts. "I never told you about Brick, did I?"

"No," Minette said, smiling, "you didn't. I heard a lot of other stories, though."

"I still don't know how Erik's ends." Greta said, frowning. "He won't tell me."

Minette smiled at Greta's expression. It looked so much like Brick's. They were a good match. Ginseng looked happy, lazing in the corner and soaking any heat that wasn't meant for iron.

"What?" Greta asked, trying to read Minette's expression. "Oh, right, Brick."

\---

I was six at the time, so some of the details are a little fuzzy, but Mama always said that I really loved being in the forge when she was working. She would put me in about the same space that Ginseng is now, over in the corner where you can feel the heat from everything, but you have to walk some before you can hurt yourself accidentally.

There's something fascinating about fire for me. I love watching it skip and dance and change colors, and I really love the way the metal glows when you put it in at just the right temperature.

Mama says I always enjoyed when I got to help out. She would let me hold one end while she twisted, or swing the hammer a few times after everything was safely in place. She said she knew I'd be a blacksmith some day.

One night, I was having trouble sleeping in the house, and I thought I heard someone working in the forge. I knew that Mama sometimes worked late, so I went there to see if she could help me get to sleep. I went in, but Mama wasn't there. Instead, there was this lady. I don't remember what she looked like, just that she was wearing red. I think she was singing, too, but I don't remember the words.

I waited until she was finished, and I clapped for a beautiful song.

"Hello, Greta," she said. I didn't think it was weird then that she knew my name, even though we'd never met. "Did you like my song?"

I nodded and smiled. "It was very pretty."

"It is the song of Iron and Fire. This forge was blessed a long time ago. Did you know that?"

I shook my head no.

"A very long time ago, a goblin girl prayed at this forge for help in defeating monsters. I heard her prayer and gave her the secret of making weapons."

And then she pulled Brick out of the fire in the forge.

"Will you take care of my friend until I come back for him?" she asked me. "Keep him safe and let him help, be he'll be happy."

I realize now that she was asking a lot out of a six year-old, but at the time it didn't seem strange at all. I think I said some words then, but the end result was that I got Brick! And we've been having a lot of fun ever since!

\---

"Doesn't seem like much of a story," Gets said, finishing. "Maybe if I could remember more."

"I think it's fine how it is," Minette said. "And I don't think it's done yet."

"Time for dinner!" Greta's mother looked her head in. "Oh, hello, Minette! Would you like to stay for dinner? There may be some stories afterward."

Minette smiled.

"I would like that very much."


End file.
